


addicted (to you)

by illmasked



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dogs, Drabble Collection, Gift Giving, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illmasked/pseuds/illmasked
Summary: short v3 drabble collection.





	1. saiouma (gift exchange)

**Author's Note:**

> all ships, prompts and warnings are tagged in the appropriate chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1: saiouma, exchanging gifts for the first time during the holidays, maybe both a little nervous that the other won’t like their gift.

“Ouma-kun?”

Ouma jumps at the sound of his name, not willing to admit he had been the slightest bit on edge ever since the party started, but unable to hide it having been caught off-guard by the one person that was causing this tiny itsy-bitsy bit of not-turmoil-at-all coiling in his stomach. 

In his typical fashion, however, he is quick to rectify his mistake, chirping a, “Wow, Saihara-chan! You scared me!” Followed by, “It’s a lie, though! I just thought it’d be funny to react like that, ‘cause surprises are so much fun and all!”

To Ouma’s further disbelief, Saihara laughs, that soft twinkle-bell laugh that twists his insides in an even grosser way, blood rushing to his pale cheeks in a surely ruddy and obvious and rude fashion. 

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Saihara says. “I was just wondering where you had run off to, since I… haven’t given you your present yet. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity, since it would be…” his characteristic nervousness starts to creep into his voice as he continues, “... weird to give it to you at school? When we had this party already to exchange gifts? That’s what I thought, anyway, though it sounds… a little cheap now that I say it out loud.”

“So cheap, Saihara-chan!” Ouma chirps, totally not fiddling with his own package behind his back. “Can’t give me gifts at school? Why’s that? Will it ruin your reputation to be seen with someone like me?”

“No, that’s not it at all!” Saihara looks flustered, and as if not sure how to transition from one point to the next, shoves a neatly wrapped box against Ouma’s chest. “Here. Um. For you.”

Ouma, who very intelligently has his hands occupied, lets the package fall to the ground. “Gee, Saihara-chan, so careless! I hope that’s not breakable.”

“I made sure to account for your… ways,” Saihara chuckles. “I, um, hope you like it. I’ll see you around…?”

He starts away, and Ouma only realizes that he’s leaving when he panics, ever so slightly, exclaiming, “Saihara-chan! Wait!”

Saihara pauses in step, turning, and Ouma feels his heart do a stupid little skip. 

“You forgot something!” He yells, unable to handle the sheer power of how  _ cute  _ Saihara’s look of astonishment is when he tosses his own package at him and it hits the detective in the arm as he’s trying to catch it. 

“What…? What’s this?”

“It’s a bomb!” Ouma jokes, grinning wide and suddenly very self-conscious. He busies his hands with picking up his gift from Saihara off the ground and holding it close. “Enjoy! If you blow up, I take no responsibility!”

“A bomb…” Saihara trails off, assessing the much more messily packed item he’s been given. “Is this… a gift, Ouma-kun?”

Ouma pauses. Then. 

“Ya got me! Happy birthday, Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, all of the above, yadda yadda,” Ouma beams, then, seeking the nearest exit, starts speedlining away. 

“W-wait!”

Ouma fakes a long and exasperated sigh, looking nonchalantly over his shoulder. “What is it now, Saihara-chan?”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “For thinking of me.”

“Who?”

Saihara’s soft smile doesn’t leave his face, and Ouma thinks this is one of the times he’s glad Saihara can read him (and that’s not often a good thing) because he doesn’t have to say anything mushy back, just clasps the package tighter in his hands, feeling a surprising plushness beneath the paper and a warmth blooming in his chest. 


	2. amaguji (strip study)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2: amaguji, studying together, and for every question answered right, somebody has to take off a piece of clothing.

“Alright,” Shinguuji rests his cheek in his palm, peering at Amami from across the table. “What goes up when the rain comes down?”

“What goes up when the rain comes down…” Amami echoes, tapping his chin in thought. “No… hmm…”

“Take your time,” Shinguuji tells him. “The point of a riddle is not for it to be easy to solve, after all.”

“Umbrella!” Amami exclaims suddenly, expression brightening. “It’s umbrella, because people put umbrellas up when it’s raining. Is that it?”

Shinguuji’s lips quirk slyly behind his mask, and he closes his eyes, tone nothing short of congratulatory. 

“Well done, Amami-kun. You are correct, as the rain pours, umbrellas will rise, so to speak.” He unfolds himself slowly, like a cat stretching out, and peels the jacket from his shoulders. “Then, the next. I have keys but no locks, I have a space but no room. You can enter but you cannot go outside. What am I?”

Amami raises an eyebrow, fingers drumming on the tabletop. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question?”

“Two for two,” Shinguuji responds. “You are wearing less clothing, it is only fair.”

“I think you’re just overconfident,” he smirks, crossing his arms atop the table and resting his chin on them, peering mischievously up at Shinguuji.

The anthropologist raises his own eyebrow, teasingly, “Is that what you make of this situation? Kukuku… how very interesting, Amami-kun.”

His fingers meet his top button, and he guides it into opening, one by one, until he’s able to rid of his shirt completely, revealing another long-sleeved shirt beneath. 

Amami smiles cheekily, “So I was right, was I?”

“We never specified they had to be study questions,” Shinguuji points out, ever pleased. “Besides, we are working with such elementary riddles. From what I infer, we needn’t study for this at all — I believe you were simply using this introductory class to your advantage, Amami-kun.”

“Well,” Amami laughs gently, reaching down to pull his shirt off from the hem upwards, “I can’t say I didn’t expect you to see through me eventually. Still, I don’t really think it’s bad to try and make college life easier, you know? It gets hard enough as it is.”

Shinguuji’s gaze doesn’t leave him, watching him closely and taking in every revealed inch of skin with interest. “That is a fair judgement and I have no objection to it. However, you should keep in mind that the next time you propose something like this, you should perhaps be better prepared.”

“Oh, haha, maybe so. Are you not enjoying the outcome, Shinguuji-kun?”

“What do you think?”

“You look pretty interested to me.”

Shinguuji cannot hold back the hidden smile, deciding on a curious and thrilling impulse to escalate the teasing as instead of taking to his second-last layer, he reaches for the band of his jeans instead. 

Amami’s eyes widen at his choice, but he says nothing, and Shinguuji pulls out of them, gracefully exposing his lengthy legs.

“I feel as though you’re working with a strategy here,” Amami comments, looking only slightly conflicted. Shinguuji delights in the way he tries not to stare, but is indeed staring quite blatantly — it is both a compliment and an increasingly intriguing turn of events. 

While they are officially dating, they’ve been scarce with physicality, and Shinguuji would not openly declare it, but he knows that what he wants from Amami is a lot to ask for, so allowing him space to test the waters is extremely valuable and incredibly exciting in addition to that. 

He suspects the outcome of this scenario will be very interesting to witness, indeed. 


	3. saiouma (love is overrated)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3: saiouma, ouma has given up on love. nope. love is not for him. forget that…. and then he meets saihara and thinks; “Annnd this is the asshole who will ruin everything.”

Ouma is over being in love.

He’s over it. He’s done.

He doesn’t care about love, he doesn’t want to offer his wonderful presence to anybody else and he’s quite happy living with his family and maybe 10 cats, having nothing to do with boys ever again.

No way, not a chance, none of that whatsoever.

He likes the drama, of course, he really does, but boys are so much work and he is just one guy. One very small and very gay guy just trying to get by.

Love is such a joke.

It’s not because he’s getting rejected or anything though, nuh uh! ‘Cause to get rejected would mean he would have to ask someone out in the first place!

It comes with great sorrow to admit but he thinks he really will never get to kiss a boy before he dies and that’s just, y’know, not great, but there are worse things.

That being said, his bucket list needs revising.

So he’s had to give up on his mission to smooch 100 boys, because boys are stupid and he hates them and love is stupid and he hates love.

They’re just so dumb and awful and gross, and he doesn’t know why he was ever attracted to them, like, seriously —

“Excuse me, Ouma-kun? Is that you?”

Ouma glances up, ready to tear this stranger a new one for interrupting his dramatic gay tantrum, when he lays eyes on one of the most beautiful boys he has ever had the chance of meeting.

His diehard crush from high school and utterly gorgeous and intelligent and one-of-a-kind super detective — Saihara Shuuichi.

If absence made the heart grow fonder, then not seeing Saihara for over three years must have made his heart grow at least ten times fonder because Saihara is drop dead gorgeous.

From the curve of his lashes to the fall of his hair, his gentle hazel eyes and courteous smile, oh _yes_ , this asshole was going to wrench a big hole in Ouma’s carefully crafted plans. Among other places, but he’s not going to think about it right now.

“... yes!” is what he ends up chirping in delay, pretending he’s not reshuffling his bucket list frantically and pulling his recent scrapped goal from the recycling and back onto the pile. It would need a few changes later. “You found me! Good for you, Saihara-chan! As expected from such a talented detective!”

Saihara blushes, too cute for words, and scratches his cheek. “I’m nothing that special… I just thought I recognized you so I came over to say hi.”

“Hi!” Ouma giggles. “It’s been a while, I’m surprised you even remembered me!”

“Well, you’re a difficult person to forget,” Saihara smiles and it’s like the heavens are parting for him alone.

Ouma blinks.

New mission: kiss one boy 100 times.


	4. amaguji (winter cuddles)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4: amaguji, cuddling under a blanket on a cold winter night.

Amami shifts under the blanket, the slight chill in the air making it difficult to fall asleep. Noting his partner stirring, he freezes, not wanting to wake Shinguuji from his slumber, but the restlessness that courses through him is unrelenting. 

He shifts again, a little further, hoping that he might just be able to roll himself off of the bed and into doing something productive if his body truly refuses to let him sleep. With this goal in mind, he inches towards the edge, before he’s stopped in his tracks by a murmur behind him. 

“Rantarou…? Where are you going?”

That clutches his heart with alarm, and he turns back around, catching sight of Shinguuji blinking wearily up at him. His voice is quiet — more so than usual — and his fingers curl around the hem of Amami’s shirt. 

“You’re not… leaving, are you...?”

Amami swallows, immediately feeling a rush of empathy as he pulls himself back to where he started, stomach heavy with the implication that he would ever leave his partner in the dark without warning. Yet he of all people should know that despite his ways, Shinguuji is rather vulnerable to being deserted and ever more when he is tired and lacks the filter to hide it, and so he is quick to reassure him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Amami takes his hand in his own. “Sorry to startle you. Go back to sleep.”

“S-sorry…” Shinguuji whispers, looking slightly ashamed to have been so transparent. “Did you… need to go to the bathroom?”

“No, nothing like that,” Amami studies his beautiful face, for a moment, all soft and sweet, before relinquishing the reason. “It’s just… cold, and I can’t seem to fall asleep.”

Shinguuji hums in response, looking slightly more alert than before, and sidles up closer to Amami, brushing their legs together beneath the duvet. “You require warmth to sleep?”

“I prefer it,” he answers, shyly nudging his leg back. “‘Cause when it comes to camping out or adventuring stuff, my body is usually prepared to sleep under any weather, but since I’m indoors and in a bed, it’s seemed to trick itself into thinking I have to be warmer. It’s pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Not at all…” Shinguuji uses his free hand to cup his face. “Well, in that case, shall I suggest a way to warm up so that your sleep may find you more easily?”

“Oh, sure, you don’t have to though.”

“Believe me,” Shinguuji remarks slyly. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Now, why would it be your—”

Amami finds himself in his partner’s arms the next second over, the coolness of his skin up close against his own. He blushes softly at the proximity, not having expected it, and it’s a pleasant feeling in the cold even as he squirms a little. 

“Hey.” Amami says. 

“Hello.”

They lie like that for a while, breathing deeply, and Amami thinks that might be the end of it until he feels his partner’s hands creeping down his spine. 

“Ulterior motive,” Amami accuses without bite. 

Shinguuji merely chuckles. “I fail to help myself, having you in so close and in need of warmth, it makes me feel… as though I have a duty to take care of you.”

“You make it so hard to say ‘no’ to you, you know that?”

He offers another amused hum, palms settling on their destination and hefting Amami up a little higher on the mattress. Though usually dry-mouthed and chaste, the kiss that lands against the jugular of his neck is far from either, sensual and hungry enough to make Amami shiver. 

Shinguuji travels down his neck like pressing map pins to mark an exploration, and Amami feels himself flush with heat. He’s too tired to mask the sounds from his mouth, gentle gasps fluttering out along with an embarrassed whine when Shinguuji pulls away, much to his partner’s pleasure. 

“Really,” Amami says, sure to sound as stern as he could muster. 

“It will keep you warm,” Shinguuji replies, nonchalantly slipping his hands beneath his clothes and making him shiver. 

He’s right. 


	5. saiouma (dogspotting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5: saiouma, ouma and saihara go dogspotting.

“Hey! Hey, Shuuichi, look,” Ouma tugs at his sleeve. “Doesn’t that bitch totally look like a mean ol’ killing machine?”

“Kokichi! What are you– d-don’t be so loud—” Saihara follows his gaze and sighs. “—okay, you have got to clarify that you’re talking about a dog next time.” 

“Well, we did come dogspotting, duh-uh-tective,” Ouma chirps back cheerfully, grip not faltering as he swings Saihara forward with him, and the detective follows again with a fond exasperation. He doesn’t stand a chance against Ouma’s whims and by now he’s long learnt to go along for the ride and somehow, he hasn't regretted it yet. Ouma sticks out his tongue, cute and childish. “Not my fault you were making silly assumptions, ya big doof!”

Saihara is about to argue a point along the lines of Ouma knowing exactly how he’s phrasing things, when Ouma yelps and shrinks behind him and Saihara is left stumbling to keep balance. “Aahh! There’s a big one coming over! Hide me!”

“We came all this way to see- wait, are you afraid of dogs?” Saihara asks, pulling himself upright again as Ouma presses his face into the back of his jacket.

“Yeees,” Ouma drags out, pathetically whimpering into the fabric in a way that even without looking at him, Saihara knows he’s lying. He can play that game too, he thinks.

“Hey Kokichi,” he says, “Look, it’s your favorite. A chihuahua.”

Ouma peeks out adorably, eyes round and wide and then when he realizes there’s no chihuahua, he lightly shoves Saihara’s arm and pouts. “There’s no chihuahua, you liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“Coming from you,” Saihara laughs gently, rolling his eyes. He’s comfortable enough to know that Ouma isn’t really offended, and he’s a little too cute when he’s pretending to be frustrated for Saihara to be able to play along without being utterly charmed. “But if I do see one for real, you will be the first to know, okay?”

“They’re not even my favorite,” Ouma continues, still pouting. “I don’t like small dogs at all.”

“Really,” it comes out more like a statement than a question. “Then you’re really not going to like the fact that there’s a dachshund coming up behind you.”

Despite himself, Ouma twirls around and the tiny squeak that leaves his mouth is more than worth all the groaning it took to get Saihara out of bed to join him at the dog park in the first place.

“Sausage dog!” Ouma exclaims, running towards the dog as it pads towards him, “Here, doggie! Greet your great leader!” 

“You are a child,” Saihara tells him, shaking his head.

“I am a man of very refined taste and only accept the best of the best of the best,” his boyfriend coos over his shoulder, squatting to play with the little brown dog that’s now made its way into his arms. “I am dating you, after all.”

Saihara can’t hide the way he blushes, and he thinks Ouma knows. “You… you’re… you can’t say things like that.”

“Juuust did!” Ouma giggles and it’s the cutest thing in the world. “Too late, no takebacksies!” Before Saihara can even get another word in, he exclaims with an excited wave of his hands, “Hey, there’s a poodle over there! Call it over, Shuuichi! Call it over!”  

And if Saihara spends the rest of the afternoon chasing after dogs to make his boyfriend laugh, he’s not going to say he regrets it one bit.

(But he will the next morning when his body is sore from all the running he’s not used to, but Ouma will make fish noises as he fusses over him and kisses him better and maybe he doesn’t actually regret it then, either.)


	6. amaguji (not going anywhere)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6: amaguji, it's more cuddles. that's it.

“Hey, Kiyo?” Rantaro whispers, not enough to startle his partner awake, but enough that if he had been, he would hear it. 

“Mm?” Korekiyo mumbles sleepily. His eyes don’t open, but Rantaro knows he’s listening, so he curls up closer to him and squeezes him tight. That stirs him a little more, his hands latching onto Rantaro’s arms as he lazily holds him in place and turns to face him. With a slow flutter, his eyes reveal themselves, and despite the intensity of his gaze, Rantaro is comforted by it. “What seems to be the matter, my love?”

“I don’t know,” Rantaro tells him honestly. “I just can’t sleep and I wanted to hold you. Make sure you were still here.”

He can’t let it all spill out here. Can’t talk about the abandonment issues and fearing that everyone he loves will eventually leave him. 

He can’t say it, but Kiyo seems to be able to understand in the way he always does, somehow. In the way that Rantaro knows is only because for at least half the time he’s spent staring and memorizing everything he can about Korekiyo, the anthropologist has been doing the same to him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Korekiyo replies, drawing him in even closer. Their faces are an inch from knocking together. His eyes blink ever so slowly and the warmth and ease of his expression feels like honey in tea. “You do know that, yes? I will not be disappearing anytime soon.”

Rantaro nods, and he’s tired enough that it’s not quite believable it seems — that or Korekiyo is far sharper than he should be while half-asleep — because Korekiyo only tugs him closer still (and how much closer can they possibly get at this point), eyes still blinking like a cat’s in the dark. 

“I am here, Rantaro,” he says softly, lips moving delicately over his name even from behind the cloth mask he wears. “You can see that I am here. I am with you and will not be going anywhere.”

“Everyone leaves,” Rantaro tells him, looking away.

“Ah, and such is life, so you must always value the time you have together,” Korekiyo places a bare hand on his cheek, and despite the coolness of his skin, it is comforting as well. He can feel the little nicks and scars on his hand, and leans into the sensation with his eyes closed, unable to resist the pull of his gentle touch. The amusing thought crosses his mind that he's acting like a cat, and Korekiyo's thumb swiping across his cheek isn't helping. “You of all people must understand this. You were never one to stay in one place, after all.”

He looks back at Korekiyo in a moment of vulnerability and nods mutely. There must be something in his face that betrays him again – some sort of weakness, he thinks – because Korekiyo’s brows draw in towards each other and he tucks a strand of Rantaro’s hair behind his ear.

“Love,” Kiyo murmurs, leaning forward so their noses meet briefly and then pulling back so he can speak. “I am not going anywhere. As long as you would like me here, I will be here.”

Rantaro feels himself softening, but the reality still tumbles free from his mouth. 

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’m not promising anything,” Kiyo answers, barely above a whisper and it's so very sincere. “All I am saying… is that I will be here. For as long as possible. As long as you will allow me to be. As long as I can be. Is that enough?”

Rantaro’s grip on him tightens and he snuggles up closer, tucking his head beneath his chin. “That’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“Nothing but a pleasure, I assure you.”

He smiles, warmth blooming in his chest, and again, says, “Thank you.”


End file.
